


Nobody thinks what you think.

by Blarryface



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 21p, BoyxBoy, Character Death, Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jishwa, JoshuaDun, Love, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Music, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Slash, Songfic, Triggers, farewell, joshdun, tyjo, tylerjoseph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blarryface/pseuds/Blarryface
Summary: Extract Chapter 1: "Dear Josh. No. That's by far not good enough for describing what you mean to me. My dearest Josh... my best Josh. Josh, my very best friend. I'm sorry. I'm honestly sorry about having to do this to you. Having you to read this. Having you to see me dying. I wish I could avoid this one. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."//One Shot Collection inspired by some Twenty One Pilots' songs or covers such as Cancer (MCR), Migraine,...Read the notes for trigger warning, don't read the story if you can't deal with the topics being mentioned for your own safety. Rated as mature because some one shots may cause triggers.





	1. Cancer - I'm Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Death, Agony, Cancer

The beeping. This goddamn beeping. It's the most awful sound Josh knows. It's not that loud. You can't ignore it, for sure, but you can forget about it if you focus on something else. If you focus too much on the beeping, it can be very annoying, but that's not the reason why it's driving Josh crazy. But Josh still gets sick when he's hearing the beeping. It always feels like he's almost losing the ground under his feet and he can never decide between crying, screaming or just collapsing. The beeping always gives Josh the worst feeling he's ever had to feel. This simple sound feels like it's smothering him. It feels like it's taking away the air to breathe, it's tying up his throat and lying heavily on his heart like a rock growing bigger and threatening to crush him. Yes. This beeping is driving him crazy - not because of its pure existence, but more because of the reason for its existence. The reason giving him a feeling of emptiness, fear and helplessness.

Because he's always hearing this beeping while visiting his best friend. Tyler. Josh's always hearing this sound entering room 463, station 4D in the hospital. 4D - palliative station. A few weeks ago Tyler was lying on another station, but he has been moved to 4D. And Josh still can not accept this one fact he's already known long time before Tyler got moved, even if the truth is inevitable: Tyler's going to die. He's going to die and that's the only reason this goddamn beeping has to exist.

This beeping's hammering like a jackhammer in Josh's head.

It's actually a good sign for Josh to hear this sound as he enters Tyler's room this day, because it's telling him that Tyler's weak heart is still beating. But Josh doesn't like the fact that Tyler, his best friend, his everything, has to be connected to a vital signs monitor, because it shows that it's no longer taken for granted that his heart's beating. And if Josh only imagines that Tyler's heart could stop beating, it's making his own heart fall into pieces.

Josh dares to make a careful step into the room. There's a smell, instantly opposing him, a smell he got used to pretty well over the last weeks and months. And yet it was a smell he'll never really get used to. He can't describe this smell. Disinfectants mixed with puke are burning in his nose. Tyler has probably vomited again while Josh was gone. _He felt sick and you weren't there for him_ , Josh instantly thinks. His hand is clasping the door handle a little tighter while he's taking a few more steps into the room.

Josh's actually almost every day and night with Tyler, but occasionally he has to leave him - as Tyler has already ceased to long for Josh's presence. It's kind of unpleasant for him to see people being close to him. He doesn't want them to see him like that. He has never wanted it. That's the reason why Josh is the only person visiting him daily. No matter what Tyler says. He could never forgive himself for letting his best friend down in his worst days.

Josh closes the door slowly now and puts his hands in his pockets. He's not sure if Tyler heard him coming. If he's noticing anything at all. Josh feels a little displeasing tear in his chest as he looks at his best friend. His face is sunken and pale, thin, his whole body almost scrawny. Dark bags are gracing his eyes while there's no single hair left on his bald head covered by veins. Underneath the hospital blanket he's nothing more than a picture of misery being connected to wires and tubes and staring nearly apathetic at the ceiling.

Josh doesn't know if Tyler will be able to speak today. Tyler's consciousness seems to disappear more day by day. Sometimes it's like he simply hasn't the power to speak. That's why Josh's sometimes just sitting next to him and talking about random stuff. Just something. Because he knows Tyler's listening - even if he doesn't seem to. And then there are some good days when Tyler is actually able to talk to Josh. He may be tired very fast, but that's not stopping him from laughing occasionally. From talking. Making fun. Tyler never lost his humor despite all this shit he's going through.

But good days are getting more rare until they're not happening anymore at all. And even if this beeping is driving Josh crazy, he's afraid of the day he's going to hear it for the last time. He's afraid of the beeping falling silent for ever someday - just like Tyler's heart.

 

_Turn away._

 

"Mhm...," Josh suddenly hears Tyler's voice and gets torn out of his own thoughts. It's just a calm sigh, a moan or buzz like he'd check if his voice is still working. Josh instantly takes a few more steps towards Tyler until he's right next to him, so Tyler won't have to speak that loudly. Speaking is very hard for Tyler in general, so Josh always tries to make it as easy as possible for him. "Hey buddy, how are you?," he's asking with a soft voice sounding impoverished and cracked. Tyler stops staring at the ceiling and focuses on Josh instead while sighing calmly. He surveys him. Josh also got thinner over the last few weeks and months. He looks unhealthy. Dark, slightly red bags grace his eyes, almost as if he hadn't slept for weeks and cried a lot instead. And that's probably the truth - and that's only Tyler's fault. Josh shouldn't be by his side anymore. He shouldn't see Tyler like that.

"Better than you look", Tyler tries to loosen the mood after all, even though it's almost miserably with his cracked and barely audible voice. A little smile creeps on his lips while looking at his friend, but afterwards he shakes his head softly. No words could describe how bad he feels and that's something Josh knows, too. But Tyler doesn't want Josh to know that. He doesn't want Josh to be here - not because he doesn't want him to be by his side, but because he doesn't want Josh to have to watch him dying. And that's what Tyler has been doing for a few weeks now: Dying. He never thought that dying could take such a long time.

"Don't look at me like that," he adds with a hoarse voice before clearing his throat and staring at the ceiling again. He's not staring at it because it's more comfortable, but more because it's easier than looking into his best friend's eyes. Because it hurts. It hurts to see how he's suffering and already mourning about Tyler. It hurts so damn much to see how he damages his best friend. A slight tear creeps out of Tyler's eye, but he's not sure if Josh recognizes it. Even if he did, he wouldn't know why Tyler's crying. It could also be caused by the pain taking more and more possession over his body.

 

_If you could get me a drink_  
_Of water 'cause my lips are chapped and faded_

 

Tyler tries again to say something, but he has to clear his throat once more. He realizes his throat is dry and his lips are chapped.  
"C...could you please" - Tyler's already raspy voice breaks off. "Do you want something to drink?," Josh understands instantly and grabs the water cup with the drinking straw standing on the table next to Tyler's bed. "Your lips are all cracked up, when was the last time you drank anything?" He's holding the cup for Tyler so he can take the drinking straw in his mouth and sip carefully. Tyler doesn't answer. It doesn't matter how much he is drinking, his lips will stay chapped and faded. Dehydration is a side effect of cancer. Like everything going along with pain and sorrow is a side effect of cancer - also dying. Tyler knows it. And he also knows this side effect is going to catch up on him soon. Very soon. But he has to say something to Josh before it happens. Just one little thing.

 

_Call my aunt Marie_  
_Help her gather all my things_  
_And bury me in all my favorite colors_  
_My sisters and my brothers_  
_Still_

 

He clears his throat again before putting all the power that's left together and nodding slightly towards the little table next to him. Josh frowns and puts the cup back on the table before examining it. "Drawer," Tyler murmurs quietly before he's interrupted by his own coughs. Josh opens the first drawer while Tyler goes on speaking. "In the last drawer there's a letter. For you." He's not able to say more at the moment. It's like this little effort just stole his voice, the voice he's always been so proud of. This voice that was always by his side, this powerful voice is now too destroyed, broken. Too broken to say all those things to Josh Tyler actually wants to say - that's why he only said this one thing. That he has written a letter for Josh.

Tyler has written this letter weeks ago, because he knew the day on which he would be too weak to hold a pen was about to come. And he knew that someday he wouldn't want his closest friends and family members to visit him anymore, because he wouldn't want them to see him like that. And he also knew that Josh would visit him anyways, even if someday Tyler wouldn't be able to drink alone anymore, to speak anymore. And Tyler knew the day would come he would be pretty sure he's dying. And he knew he'd have so much left to say to Josh, but he wouldn't be able to say it anymore. And that's why he had written down everything before it was too late.  
And now he lays here, staring at the ceiling, just so that he doesn't have to look at his friend who's already looking filled with worries and sorrow. He closes his eyes as he notices that Josh is reading the letter out loud intuitively, like Tyler wouldn't know what's written in it. Maybe he doesn't want Tyler to lay in silence while he is reading. Maybe he wants Tyler to have the opportunity to add something. Or maybe he just wishes that this letter is not from his best friend, because already the beginning sounds like it's kind of a goodbye.

"Dear Josh. No. That's by far not good enough for describing what you mean to me. My dearest Josh... my best Josh. Josh, my very best friend. I'm sorry. I'm honestly sorry about having to do this to you. Having you to read this. Having you to see me dying. I wish I could avoid this one. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.  
I don't know how bad my disease is when you're reading this. I'm probably (or hopefully) writing this letter weeks before you're actually receiving it. I don't want to procrastinate. I don't want to just wait until it's too late instead of saying you instantly a few things I've always wanted to say. It's always like that in life, isn't it? You're planning stuff and suddenly time flies by and it's too late to actually do something. And all you've done your whole life is planning and planning and planning and never living. Well, I lived. At least when I was with you."

Josh breaks off for a moment as a silent sob bursts out of his throat. Reading this letter hurts so damn much, because it feels too much like an end. A goodbye. Like the last word, like the last point of the letter would mark the end of everything and Josh doesn't want it to be like that. He doesn't want it to end. Not now. Not like that. Gosh, he and Tyler were supposed to get old together. They should play hundreds of shows, jumping from stage to stage. Writing songs, creating music. Going on vacation. Experiencing stuff. Having fun. Just being together, that's what they should be able to do. Being together. Friends and more, because they are, even if both of them never dared to confess it. They should have had more time, more time to live. Someday, when they'll be, like, 70 or 80 years old, yes, then they could die in peace. But not now, not today. Not just like that. Tyler can't just be torn out of his life, no. He can't. Josh can't just live without the most important person in his life. Without his best friend. Never ever could he live like that. Never.

"Just...just go on reading", Tyler demands with weak voice. Josh rubs his eyes. He needs a moment before going on reading, because his tears are blurring his view. He almost feels like hearing Tyler's voice while reading, because Tyler always writes the sentences like he thinks, even if they are confusing and disordered. It's like Josh is holding a part of Tyler's thoughts in his hands.

"Hey, could you do me a favor? Just a little one", Josh goes on reading, "When everything's over, could you please call my aunt first? Before you call my parents, I mean. She shall gather all my things. Could you help her? I don't want my parents or Zack and Jay and Maddie having to do this. Actually, I don't want you having to do this neither, but I know you. You'd help anyway, just like you are here anyway, even though you don't have to anymore and even though I told you not to visit me anymore. What have I done to deserve someone like you?  
Oh and I nearly forgot: I never really talked about my funeral, but I want all of you to just remember me how I was like, okay? Like, bury me in my favorite colors. Man, don't wear black, that's way too sad. Don't be sad. Your life goes on even if mine ends."

Josh shakes his head. No. No, no, no, no, no. His life can't simply go on when Tyler's gone. No. Their lives are connected. That's not possible.  
"Tyler, I can't...," Josh tries to say while tears are running down his cheeks. "Yes, Josh", Tyler whispers. It's like his voice gets weaker and weaker. Tyler notices how weak he gets by himself, but he still strains to answer Josh. "Yes, you can."

 

_I will not kiss you_  
_'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you_

 

"You know what, Josh? While I'm writing this letter, I wish I was with you. I wish I was with you the whole time in general. I'd like to not even leave you. I wish I could hug you and tell you 'Everything's gonna be alright, okay?'. But let's be honest: It would be nothing but a lie. Nothing's gonna be alright - at least not for me. I'm going to die, Josh. I don't even know if I'm still alive when you're reading this. I'm going to die and no one can change something about it. No one can stop it. No one, not you, not me, not the doctors. No one.  
And the worst part about it is leaving you. Leaving you alone. Man, I really feel like shit about that. I torment myself with accusations, man, I don't want to leave you. I just want to hug you, to comfort you, but that won't work if you're crying about my death.  
I want to hug you, to kiss you, Josh. But I won't, because it wouldn't make things any easier, not for you and not for me."

 

_I will not kiss you, kiss you._  
_Lips are chapped and faded,_  
_Call my, call my,_  
_Turn away._  
_Lips are chapped and faded, faded._

 

"I won't kiss you to say goodbye, because I know you'll still feel my lips on yours when I'm gone. I won't kiss you, Josh, but you don't want to kiss me anyway. My lips are rough and chapped, faded. I want to kiss you, Josh. But I won't.  
I'm sorry this letter is so confusing. I'm sorry. I don't know what to do by myself right now. I don't know what to write by myself. Honestly, I just wanted you to call my aunt when it's all over. I didn't want more, but now I'm writing and writing and I can't stop because there's so much more left to say to you. Way too much.  
Hey, as we are already talking about favors, could you please stop looking at me? It will just hurt you. You don't have to see me like that with those chapped lips, this fade all over my body. Don't do this to you. Don't do this to me."

 

_Now turn away_  
_'Cause I'm awful just to see_  
_And all my hairs abandoned, all my body_  
_All my agony_

 

"Just turn away, I look like shit anyways. I don't want you to remember me like that. Bald and bony and scrawny. Man, I used to be a hot guy before all this agony-shit. Remember me like that. As this person who I used to be when we were together. With friends or on tour, with our families. Something, somewhere. Hey, remember that one time a girl just gave us a car radio while we were performing 'Car Radio'? Man, that was great. It was awesome. I don't know why I'm talking about it. I guess I just like to remember stuff like that. The happy, great stuff we experienced together. I would do anything for standing on the stage right now. Just one more concert, even if it was the worst we'd ever give. It doesn't matter. It'd be great.  
My whole life was pretty perfect, to be honest, at least since I met you and since we're in a band together. Wanting you to be my new drummer was the best decision I've ever made. Well, wait. The second-best decision, because my best decision was wanting you to be my best friend. Yep. It was. I'll never regret this decision, I'll only regret that it stayed that way."

 

_Know that I will never marry_  
_Baby, I'm just soggy from the chemo_  
_I'm counting down the days to go_  
_This just aint livin'_  
_And I just hope you know_

 

"But now it's to late, isn't it? Don't they always say: In the end of your life, you'll never regret all those things you did wrong, but you'll regret all those opportunities you missed? I can agree, I guess. If I regret something, it's only the things I didn't do. Because I was anxious. Fuck anxiety. It only ravishes your life. Josh, I know you're anxious sometimes. But don't let your life be ravished by anxiety. You only got one and it's all yours.  
I was anxious sometimes and now I'm here regretting some things I haven't done, because I was anxious. I mean I know a few things now which I'll never be able to do. Marrying, for example. Why are you only my best friend? Man, my brain's soggy from the chemo again. That's awful. I mean, I still know what I'm thinking and feeling, but sometimes it just feels like...I don't know. My thoughts are so tough. Like...I don't know. I can't really describe this feeling. I only know it doesn't feel well - but somehow, for a few weeks now, absolutely nothing feels well anymore. I know reading this will hurt you, but I'm already counting down the days that are left until it's finally time to go. I don't want to live anymore. I mean, you can't call this a life anymore, can you? Earlier, before I got my diagnose, yes, I had a life. We had a life. And you made mine special. But now when I see you, I don't feel like I'm living anymore. I only feel pain. I always feel pain. I hope you'll understand. I hope you'll understand that I don't want to live, to fight anymore."

 

_I will not kiss you, kiss you_  
_Lips are chapped and faded_  
_Call my, call my,_  
_Turn away._  
_Lips are chapped and faded, faded._

 

"I hope you'll understand that I won't kiss you with my chapped, faded lips. That I won't hug you. That I don't want you to look at me anymore. No one should see me like that, no one who's as close as you or my family. That's why I want you to call my aunt. She's not that close. No one has to see my faded lips and you don't have to kiss them. No. I'd really like to, but I don't want to. It'd only hurt you. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

 

_If you say, if you say,_  
_Goodbye today, goodbye today,_  
_I'll ask you to be true, I'll ask you to be true,_  
_'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you._  
_Yes, the hardest part of this..._

 

Josh stops for a moment, because he notices his own voice breaking off too. He takes a look at Tyler, his eyes are still closed. He breaths shallowly. "Tyler, I..." - "Josh, it's over soon," Tyler murmurs, "no looking, go on reading." It's like he needs all of his power to say those words. Over soon, those words are resounding in Josh's head. He doesn't want to think about it. Tyler wants him to go on reading. He goes for this request. He just can't refuse one of his best friend's requests anymore.

"Josh, when you're saying goodbye to me, I want it to be an honest farewell - always when you're leaving, because I never know if I'm still here the next day. I don't know when I will die. I just don't know. I don't even know if I'm still alive when you're reading this. But if I'm still alive: Never say something like 'See you later' or 'See you tomorrow'. I don't know if there will be a 'later' or a 'tomorrow' for me. I simply don't know. And I don't want us to diverge in the expectation to see each other again, because maybe we won't see us again. I don't want it to end like that. The hardest part of all this still is leaving you. And I don't want to leave without a goodbye. A real goodbye. An honest one. A definitive one."

 

_I will not kiss you, kiss you._  
_Lips are chapped and faded._  
_Call my, call my._  
_Lips are chapped and faded, faded._  
_Kiss you, kiss you._  
_Lips are chapped and faded._  
_Call my, call my._  
_Lips are chapped and faded, faded._

 

"But at the same time I don't really want to say goodbye. I don't want to embrace you, I don't want to kiss you, 'cause that would mean it's over and that'd hurt, wouldn't it? I don't want you to feel my cold, rough lips on yours forever. 'Cause I will be gone and nothing's gonna get me back. God, I know it's fucked up. I wanted to stay cool, I didn't want this goodbye to be too hard for you, but man, I'm scared Josh. I'm scared of death but I also long for it. Can death be worse than this decease? I think it can, because when I'm dead I can't hold your hand anymore, Josh. Man, I just want to hold your hand, I just want you to embrace me. To kiss me. I just want to stay with you, Josh. I want it so bad. But we both know it's impossible. Man, why do we know it's impossible? Why is it impossible? Why is it impossible, man!? Why can't I just stay with you? Why do I have to leave you alone?! I'm sorry, Josh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for having you as my best friend. I'm so sorry that you have to experience this. The worst part about it is letting you down. I'm really sorry for letting you..."

Josh falters as he hears something different between the sounds of his own sobs and his own cracked voice. A sound that is way too loud and way too defeating in his ears. A monotonous beeping, a single, elongated tone sounding so simple. And yet it won't disappear out of Josh's head ever again since this sound implies what Josh has been afraid of for months now. What had stopped him from sleeping or eating. It means that Tyler's heart has just stopped beating. That it has just silenced. That any spark of life's just drained out of Josh's best friend.

"No," he whispers petrified. "No, no, no, Tyler, no. Please, Tyler." Tears are running down his face unceasingly as he drops the letter and takes Tyler's hand. Josh lays his other hand gently on his best friend's cheek. The soft, pale skin is cold, way too cold.  
"No, Tyler, don't you dare doing this to me, no. Man. Tyler, please. Please, don't do this to me. Please, I...Tyler, please! Please!"

He's laying his head down on the shoulder of his best friend, no, on the shoulder of his love, his everything. On the shoulder of the most important human being in his life. And he's crying. He's crying too loud to hear the person opening the room's door. He almost doesn't recognize the hand being laid on his back. The attending doctor's rough voice reaches his ears like it passes through cotton wool. "I'm sorry, we..." - "NO!," Josh just screams. He must sound like a defiant kid, but he doesn't care. He goes on leaning on Tyler, shaking his head and not even looking at the doctor. "I...I'll leave you alone for one more moment. We'll inform his fami-..." - "His aunt. Call his aunt. Leave us alone," Josh sobs like he's in trance. He hears the door being closed. He thinks he's alone with Tyler again. But he couldn't care less anyway. In his head there's still only the monotonous beeping, even though the doctor shut off the machine before leaving the room.  
"No, Tyler, no. No, I couldn't say goodbye", he sobs. "I'm so sorry, Tyler. I'm sorry for not saying goodbye. I'm so sorry. Why do you leave me alone...please, don't leave me alone. Please, don't let me down...no, Tyler"

 

Josh doesn't know how long he has been cowering there like that. He doesn't know how long he has been crying. How long he has been screaming. How loud he has been screaming. Who has been hearing him. He just doesn't know. He really doesn't know.  
He only knows he's not feeling any better when he finally opens his eyes.  
He feels worse, because he just sees the pale face of his friend. And he notices that his eyes are red through all the tears have dried up through time, almost like Josh has no tears left to cry. His throat is dry, almost tied up and his heart feels too heavy for going on beating. If Josh is honest, he doesn't want his heart to go on beating right now. It feels more like his heart is supposed to silence together with his friend's one. It would be better.

Josh's still holding Tyler's hand as he straightens. All of his bones and his back are cracking, it's just like his whole body has rusted through the mourning. Like Tyler's death has paralyzed Josh completely. As he straightens and takes a careful step backwards, he hears a quiet rustle to his feet. He looks down. The letter. He hasn't read its end yet. So he sits down on the chair he has been sitting before while reading and takes the letter with one hand while he's still holding Tyler's hand in the other one. He clears his throat and goes on reading loudly. Because he wishes his best friend could still be listening to him.

"I'm really sorry for letting you down. I'm really and honestly sorry. I'll never forgive me, Josh. Never. As I also never forgive me to not kiss you right now. But It'd hurt you too much and my lips are chapped, rough. Man, how bad I'd like to kiss you right now. Isn't it ironic that you're always just aware of stuff like that when it's almost too late? I mean, I've always known how important you are to me. Josh, you're my very best friend. My soul mate. No one was there for me like you. You were there for me in good as well as in bad days and I really want to thank you for that. I want to thank you for always being by my side. Always. Even now when everything is going down with me. Man, I don't know how I'll feel when you're reading this, but it doesn't matter how sick I am, 'cause I know you'll still be there. Josh, you comforted me when I felt like shit, you even wiped off my puke after the chemo and you also made me laugh on my worst days. A friend like you is more precious than everything else. I'd never replace you, for nothing and no one and no money on this earth. You know, you are this...this little tear in my heart reminding me of still being alive, after all. Reminding me of still being on fire and flying higher than I ever have. You're showing me how worthy life is. Thank you. Thank you for being able to call you my best friend. And now as I'm thinking about it, there's nothing I regret more than never telling you that I love you. You know, sometimes I'd just look at you and think "Hey, I love this man with this tattooed arm and the little 'Tyler' on his knee and this crazy-colored hair and this...this cute little smile that's able to bring dead puppies back to life. I love this man. I just love him." And I'll regret not telling you this before for the rest of my life. That I've waited with this realization until it was too late. I regret it, for god's sake, I regret it so damn much. I love you, man. And I just won't kiss you, 'cause I'm scared of hurting you. I love you, I'd like to scream it to the world if screaming hadn't become this hard. I love you. And no matter where I am right now, I'll be by your side for ever and always. I won't leave you alone, like, really alone. Just like you didn't leave me alone. I could always count on you and I want you to always be able to count on me. I want you to know that - no matter where I am or will be, dead or alive - I will never forget you. Never. I'll always be there for you and I'll always accompany you in your beautiful life which you'll live, for heaven's sake. You deserve to live. The world would be lost without a boy like you, okay. I love you, Josh. My very best Josh, I love you."

And that's how the letter ends. It ends similar to how it began. For a moment Josh doesn't know what to do except of staring at the last few smudged-written words. He hasn't noticed he's crying again until a quiet sob bursts out of his throat. He leans forward again so he's more like cowering over his dead friend than sitting on his chair. He's laying his hand on the soft, cold cheek again, coming closer this time, closing is eyes and leaning his forehead against Tyler's. He remains in this position for a moment before whispering with cracked voice: "I love you too, Tyler. I always did." A tear drops out of his eye on Tyler's face. And Josh's carefully laying his dry lips on the lips of his best friend. His love.

And he knows, he'll never forget this rough, cold feeling of Tyler's lips on his own ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, feel free to tell me your opinions in the comments below. Also special thanks to Leo for correcting this one shot. But excuse us if there are any mistakes left, english isn't our first language, we're german potatoes, so feel free to correct me^^  
> Thank you. Stay alive |-/


	2. Migraine - Logged out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extract: Stay alive for me. You'll get it through this night and tomorrow the sun will rise and we will try again. And you'll get it through this week. And you'll get it through this life. We will. We'll make it. Do it. Stay alive for me. At least for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggerwarning: Depression, Self-Doubt, Suicidal Behaviour

Migraine - Logged Out

_blurry_tyler is typing..._

Josh's tapping around on the edge of his laptop nervously while waiting for Tyler's response. It feels like Tyler's already been typing for ages. That's why Josh's already checked if his computer is still connected to his Wi-Fi, just to make sure he's still online. He is still online. Tyler is still typing.  
Josh sighs. He worries about him. About this guy he has actually never seen in real life. The guy he has got in touch with through the pseudonym "blurry_tyler". The guy he's learned to like through the internet. Josh has never thought it would be possible to worry about a person he only knew through the internet. To miss people he's never seen. Tyler's shown him that it's possible. In the beginning the contact hasn't been that important to both of them. They just talked about some things they liked, like bands they listened to, series they watched. But those superficial conversations have become serious talks about everything. About family, school, problems, feelings. Mainly the last two points, because Tyler has a lot of problems and feelings.  
And that's why Josh worries about him. He worries about this guy he actually can't really know, yet he knows him pretty well. This guy having become Josh's best friend somehow - even though they are divided by way too much miles.  
2243 miles. 2243 miles are dividing Josh in L.A., California from Tyler in Columbus, Ohio. 2243 Miles.  
It would take Josh 735 hours to walk to Tyler. 193 hours when riding a bike. 32 hours when driving a car. Only 5 hours by plane - but a lot of money he just can't afford.  
And after all, Josh's parents wouldn't allow him to visit Tyler anyway. He could be a killer or a pedophilic rapist or just another type of cheater. Josh's parents just don't understand. They don't know Tyler like he does. 

Tyler, on the other hand, sometimes doesn't feel like he knows himself very well. He doesn't know why, but he's often unfamiliar to himself. And if there is a person even knowing him a bit, it's Josh, he can tell. Because he's never trusted anyone like him. Nobody really knows him, not his parents, not his siblings, not his classmates. Nobody. They don't know his brain the way they know his name. They don't know his heart the way they know his face. It's different for Josh. Exactly the other way around. He only knows Tyler's first name, but Tyler's sharing most of his thoughts with Josh. He doesn't know what Tyler looks like, but he's already seen his heart. Josh seems to know almost everything about Tyler's problems and inner demons. About the voice in his head tormenting him every day, but exactly this voice constantly tries to persuade Tyler that Josh knows nothing about him. The voice wants Tyler to feel like he's the only one not waging his wars with weapons on a battlefield, but in thoughts behind his face and about his throat. With thoughts in his own mind. _You're all alone_ , the voice - always appearing like a dark shadow of himself - whispers. It always appears when Tyler feels like not being alone - a feeling that only Josh can give him, because he's the only one really knowing him. _Yes, you're all alone_ , the voice whispers again. _You're alone._

Josh sighs again. He wonders if Tyler's writing a novel for him as suddenly the message icon glows up. Josh instantly opens the message and only sees a single short sentence, not the long monologue he's expected to see. 

 

 _ **blurry_tyler:** I've got a migraine._  
_blurry_tyler is typing..._

 

Josh rubs his eyes. He's reading this sentence way too often. It's going down with Tyler. Josh experienced a lot of ups and downs with him since he's got in touch with him - which has happened at least a year ago, almost 14 months. But it's the first time Tyler's in such a deep, black and endless pit. Josh doesn't know what to do anymore. He just doesn't know how to get Tyler up again. He can't do anything but writing with him anyway. Nothing but writing. It has to suffice. Josh hopes it would suffice.

 

_**blurry_tyler** : No normal migraine. It's more like the pain ranges from up, down and sideways. Like an "everything hurts"-migraine._

_**spookyjim:** Sounds terrible. Did you drink some water? Took some pain killers?_

 

Tyler's put a hand on his eyes until he hears the quiet "pling" telling him there's a new message. He reads what Josh's written with squinted eyes. Looking at the desktop shining brightly is terrible. His whole room is darkened, only the laptop's desktop shines in the dark and burns in his eyes making the pungent and throbbing pain even worse. He wants to snap shut the laptop and throw it far away, but he can't, because if he did, he'd have to stop writing with Josh. And if he stopped writing with him, he knows the voice in his head would start screaming louder and making the pain even worse. Tyler's scared of it. He's always scared when hearing this voice in his head. Josh's called it Blurryface months ago. "Blurryface?," Tyler asked back then. "I know it's not creative, Mr. blurry_tyler, but the voice needs a name, I guess.," Josh answered. "If it has a name, maybe it won't be that scary anymore. Then you can look right in his goddamn blurry face and tell him to shut the fuck up." Tyler smiled about this message from Josh back then. But the smile's disappeared, because giving the voice a name has been of no use. Blurryface is still scary. Scarier than before, because he's possessing everything. Every thought, every feeling. He knows Tyler better than Tyler knows himself. He's every insecurity, every self-doubt Tyler hasn't even thought of. He's this dark part of his thoughts Tyler's shaking hands with everyday. And he's making him sick, driving him crazy. And this headache, this goddamn headache is about to kill Tyler. _Or maybe you should kill yourself._

 

_**blurry_tyler:** I'd like to take a whole pack of pain killers._

_**spookyjim:** You won't do that!_

_**blurry_tyler:** Only took two, duh. And drank a lot of water. Didn't help, only spew up water._

_**spookyjim:** Didn't you eat anything?_

_**blurry_tyler:** Wasn't hungry._

 

Josh stops tapping on the edge of the laptop and tightens his hand. He stretches his muscles so hard that his wrists are white. Why can't he just be with Tyler? Why can't he just help him somehow. Somehow. No, he's 2243 miles away and can't do anything but sitting in front of his laptop and asking stupid questions. Goddamn. 

 

_spookyjim: Aren't your parents at home? o.O_

 

Josh knows Tyler's parents have to force him to eat something on some days. Tyler always complains about it. They should accept if he isn't hungry. He doesn't need to eat anything if he doesn't feel like eating. Josh sees things differently since he knows Tyler once stopped eating for a whole week just because his parents weren't at home and his siblings didn't care at all.  
Sometimes Tyler just forgets about eating. It's like everything that happens in his mind leaves no room for normal human needs. It's like the hunger gives way to the self-doubt and the tiredness gives way to the insecurity. Josh knows, that's dangerous - and Tyler doesn't care at all. 

 

 _ **blurry_tyler:** No, today's Friday, they are on a weekend trip until Monday morning, remember?_  
_blurry_tyler is typing..._

 

Josh frowns. He knows Tyler can be very out of it when he's down, but he's never experienced him that boggled. 

 

 _ **blurry_tyler:** Thank god it's Friday. Fridays are always better than Sundays. Sundays are my suicide-days._

_**spookyjim:** Ty, today IS Sunday..._

 

Tyler's staring at Josh's message before looking at the date being shown in the right corner of his laptop. Damn. He's right. Today's Sunday. Why the hell is today Sunday!? _You don't even know the day, incompetent Tyler_. Shut up, Blurry.  
Tyler puts his face in his hands. Sunday, Sunday, for god's sake, today's Sunday. So tomorrow is Monday which means he'll have to go to school. He'll have to see people and he'll have to endure their doubting looks. He'll have to stand his parent's questions as they'll come back tomorrow. No. No, he can't bear it. Goddamn, why's today Sunday!?

 

_**blurry_tyler:** Fuck. For heaven's sake, no, I can't do this anymore. I just can't survive another weak._

_**spookyjim:** Calm down. You survived last week, so you'll survive this week too._

 

Josh is tired of writing this, because he feels like repeating this sentence every Sunday. Every Sunday he promises Tyler that he'll survive the week. And every Sunday he's right, but it's not making things better as it feels like Tyler is falling deeper and deeper in the darkness every week. Things get worse, Tyler's migraine gets worse, Tyler feels worse. And Blurryface's screams get louder. Even Josh being 2243 miles away from Tyler notices everything's going down with him - while Tyler's parents and siblings don't care at all. It makes Josh angry. Why doesn't Tyler's family care about him!? How can they ignore the fact that Tyler almost stops eating or leaving his room!? Why do his parents leave him alone over weekend, even though a blind person would see he's about to commit suicide soon? How can they be so irresponsible!?  
Josh can't understand. He really can't. He only knows it can't go on like this. But he doesn't know what to change. How to change something. Because he's nothing but a boy sitting in front of his laptop 2243 miles away. Nothing but that.

 

 _ **blurry_tyler:** You don't understand, Sundays suck._

_**spookyjim:** I know, it's not the first Sunday we experience together._

 

 _He still doesn't understand. No one understands you._ "Blurry, be quiet!" Tyler's whisper sounds more like a hissing while talking angrily to Blurryface. It's of no use, of course. Blurry's just laughing. It's a deep, throaty laugh, an evil laugh, a gloomy one. Tyler presses his hands on his ears almost like he could suppress the voice. Of course it doesn't work. The gloomy laughers stay.  
Gloomy. That's the word describing Tyler's Sundays in general. They are gloomy - and it doesn't even need thunderstorms or drizzles, no cloud needs to be in the sky to shroud Tyler's Sundays in a deep grey. Even in the brightest sunbeams Tyler only sees black and white - in which case the color black definitively prevails. Black, everything's black. And Tyler doesn't know why. And he also doesn't know how to see colors again. He just doesn't know. And it gets worse every day. Every fucking day. He can't stand this anymore. Sometimes death seems better than the migraine in his head.

 

 _ **blurry_tyler:** You don't know how I feel._

_**spookyjim:** Don't even start with that one._

_**blurry_tyler:** No, I'm serious, you don't understand how I feel._

_**spookyjim:** How do you come up with this? Did Blurry tell you?_

 

Josh is right. Blurryface has told Tyler. 

 

_**blurry_tyler:** You don't understand._

_**spookyjim:** Try to explain._

 

Tyler sighs. He ponders of how he could describe the headache, its meaning and his hate against Sundays the best way. How he could describe Josh why everything is senseless for him. But how do you talk about feelings you don't understand by yourself? How do you explain what's wrong with you if you don't even know what's wrong? Tyler's looking for comparisons, for examples helping him to transfer feelings Josh has never felt by himself. Because Tyler knows he's the only one feeling that way. He knows, Josh has problems too - a lot, to be honest. But they were different. Tyler would never claim his own problems to be worse or more important than Josh's. They're just different. And that's why Josh will never really understand how Tyler feels, even though he's the only one at least trying to, which means a lot to Tyler, because Josh's the only person really caring about him. But even Josh can't help Tyler. Maybe he's listened to and also tried to be understood, but he needs a person being able to understand. And he won't find this person, because no one knows Blurryface except of him. 

 

 _ **blurry_tyler:** I don't know if I'm able to explain._

_**blurry_tyler:** It's not the headache driving me crazy, it's the reason for the migraine's existence._

_**spookyjim:** And what's the reason?_

 

Josh can imagine the reason causing the headache. He knows it, to be honest - at least more or less. It's the voice constantly screaming in Tyler's head, the thoughts scourging him, the self-hatred, the self-doubt, the insecurity - Josh's not stupid. It's the anxiety and depression causing Tyler's migraine. Robbing his sleep and hunger, pulling him deeper and deeper in the darkness every day. Josh knows it. But he still feels like standing on the edge of the ravine Tyler has fallen into and he's just looking down and not being able to see anything in the depth's darkness. That's why he's still asking as he hopes to finally understand what's happening in Tyler's head. And he hopes to be able to help him when he's finally understood. 

 

_**blurry_tyler:** My depressing thoughts. I always have to defend myself against them. _

_**blurry_tyler:** But I can't, I'm defenseless. _

_**blurry_tyler:** They are always there. _

_**blurry_tyler:** I can't defend myself, Josh_

_**blurry_tyler:** It's like a test I can't pass, 'cause I'm tested by life and life's a ruthless examiner-asshole. _

_**blurry_tyler:** And I don't know what to do_

_**spookyjim:** Did you try to write down your thoughts? It always used to help you, remember? _

 

Tyler frowns. He runs through is short, brown hair, squints his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens his eyes again he takes a look at the countless papers being written and smeared on laying next to the laptop to the left and right all over the desk. Tyler's nervously wiggling with his leg, tapping again and again with his heel on the ground while leaning his elbows on the writing desk and running through his hair with both hands before letting his fingers rest in his neck for a moment. He's shaking his head again while looking at the papers. Black eyes smeared with coal on a sheet, grey shapes, pencil strokes forming a pale face. Sentences that just shot through his head.  
_Death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit._  
_Sometimes quiet is violent._  
_This is not what I have planned._  
_My name's Blurryface and I care what you think._  
_I care what you think._  
_My name's Blurryface._  
_Care what you think._  
_I care what you think._  
_This is not what I have planned._  
_Care what you think._  
_What you think._  
_You're thinking what I am thinking._  
_I don't care what you think._  
_Nobody cares what you think._  
_My name's Blurryface._  
_Blurryface._  
_You are Blurryface._  
Stop. Pointless. Non-sense phrases, nothing. Not even Tyler's thoughts, no, but Blurry even interferes in what he's writing. Pointless. Meaningless, purposeless! Writing is purposeless! Tyler throws down the sheets to both sides of his writing desk. He sees dark eyes falling down and shakes his head as he believes to see the glowing of red pupils in them. No. Pointless. That's pointless. Only sheets. Doodles. Pointless. Purposeless. Nothing but that. _More than that._

 

_**blurry_tyler:** No_

_**spookyjim:** Writer's block? _

_**blurry_tyler:** No, I guess my writer just hates the clock. Can't think clearly and my thoughts keep me awake, even if I write them down, so it doesn't matter. _

_**spookyjim:** When did you sleep the last time? _

_**blurry_tyler:** Don't know_

_**spookyjim:** You have to sleep more, Tyler. _

_**blurry_tyler:** Might also sleep when I'm dead. And sometimes death seems better than the migraine in my head, you know? _

 

Words like that lay heavy on Josh's heart, because he knows Tyler's serious. He knows Tyler's seeing death as a last way out. It's hurting Josh, because he doesn't want Tyler to give up. He doesn't want Tyler to feel alone - Jesus Christ, he isn't alone at all! Even if Josh's problems are small and insignificant compared to Tyler's, they still exist and Josh's still waging his wars in his mind too. Josh knows, he knows how it feels. He knows, for heaven's sake. Blurryface can try to persuade Tyler to be all alone, but he isn't. That's not true. Maybe Josh can't totally understand how Tyler feels, but he's there for him. He's always there for him. Tyler isn't alone.

 

 _ **spookyjim:** Don't say stuff like that, you can't do this to me. And to you. You know I'm there for you, we'll make it together. We made it this far, Ty. _

_**blurry_tyler:** "Made it this far", you don't know anything. I'm not as fine as I seem. _  
_blurry_tyler is typing..._

 

Josh sighs. Hearing this hurts somehow. Getting told to have no idea, even though Josh's feeling like he'd know at least somehow how Tyler feels. He recognizes when Tyler feels better or even worse. At least he's thought he'd know. Getting told to not know anything, hurts very much. It's hurting deep down in Josh's heart. But at the same time Josh knows it's not the time to feel hurt. He can't watch his own feelings right know, because Tyler's are more important at the moment. Tyler is more important. 

 

_**blurry_tyler:** Pardon me... _

_**spookyjim:** You don't have to apologies. You're right, I don't know what's happening inside your head, but I try to understand, Tyler. Really. You're not alone, I'm with you. I just don't understand yet, but I try my really best, I promise. _

_**blurry_tyler:** You don't want to know what my mind looks like. Honestly. _

_**spookyjim:** That's exactly what I want to know. _

_**blurry_tyler:** I'll try to explain_

_**blurry_tyler:** It's like I have two egos. Green gardens and colorful flowers are not growing in my psyche anymore. They are disappearing. It's a different me now. There were green gardens, of course, but now they are repressed by the other me, the other ego. The dark ego, you know? _

_**blurry_tyler:** There are only... _

_**blurry_tyler:** ...like...difficult beast feasting on burnt-down trees. Grey. Dark. Bleak and dead. _

_**blurry_tyler:** I don't know how to explain. Let me paint a mental picture portrait you won't forget. _

_**blurry_tyler:** Imagine my forehead is a door holding back contents that make Pandora's Box's contents look non-violent. _

_**blurry_face:** You know why I can't sleep? Except of Blurry's constantly screaming voice, of course. It's because every time I close my eyes I see islands of violence behind my eyelids. And it's like my mind's ship-wrecked and those islands are the only land it could find. And I didn't even know it was such a violent island, but it is. It's full of tidal waves and suicidal crazed lions trying to eat me while the blood's already running down their chin. And I know I can fight them or I can let the lions win. _

_**blurry_tyler:** And I'm tired of fighting, you know, Josh_

_**blurry_tyler:** I don't want to fight anymore_

_**blurry_tyler:** I've tried everything to win, assembled what weapons I can find. I drank too much, took sleeping pills, pain killers, man, nothing works out. But sometimes to stay alive you've got to kill your mind, don't you? But I can't manage it, I don't get Blurry to shut the fuck up. _

_**blurry_tyler:** I can't do this anymore, Josh. I just can't and I don't want to. I want to let the lions win, Josh. They'll win someday anyway. _

_**spookyjim:** Don't let the lions win. _

 

That's all Josh can manage to answer in first place. He's biting his lips nervously while tapping even faster on the edge of his laptop. Tyler can't let the lions win. No. He just can't. Tyler can't just give up. While thinking about it, Josh heart seems to beat a little slower. He wishes he could be with him. With Tyler, the boy sitting 2243 miles away in front of his computer and being about to do a big mistake. The boy really needing help, needing someone to prevent him from doing something stupid. Josh wants to be this person. But he can't - and that's the worst part about it. He's probably the only person on this goddamn planet earth having the will to save this boy, but he's also the person in his circle of acquaintances, who's the least able to do it. It's driving Josh crazy.  
And so he simply starts typing in his despair. He just types what comes to his mind. Because he can't do anything else. And he hopes it would be enough. He hopes not to lose Tyler. He could lose everything, but not Tyler.

 

_**spookyjim:** Don't let the lions win, Tyler_

_**spookyjim:** If you won't for you, then at least for me_

_**spookyjim:** I need you_

_**spookyjim:** You're not the only one waging his wars in his mind. And yes, maybe I don't feel as bad as you do, but you're giving me the feeling of not being alone. Man, we did it this far, don't give up! Don't do this to me! _

_**spookyjim:** Tyler, you're my best friend! You're pretty damn important to me, I don't want to lose you. I cannot lose you, no, I just can't. _

_**spookyjim:** I'd love to be with you right know. I'd say that we should take a day to break away from all the pain our brain has made. We should just forget about it, at least for one day, one moment. Together. I'd love to do that. _

_**spookyjim:** But, you know, my parents. And the distance. _

_**spookyjim:** But just because we're living miles apart doesn't mean the game is played alone! _

_**spookyjim:** Just think about it, we've got each other. And I know it doesn't sound important at all, but it is more than just important. Think about the last months. Man, we've got each other. I'm always there for you, Tyler. Always. _

_**spookyjim:** Remember this one. Just hold on to it. Hold on to me being there for you, when your life isn't good enough for holding on to anymore, Tyler. _

_**spookyjim:** Don't you know that life has a hopeful undertone? Maybe Blurry's screaming so loud so you can't hear it anymore sometimes, but it's there. It's always there. _

_**spookyjim:** Don't listen to Blurryface, don't listen to him, listen to me. Just listen to me. _

_**spookyjim:** Give a fuck of what he's saying. You're not alone, you're not. Give a fuck on this goddamn shadow in your mind, he's not important at all. _

 

Blurry's not important. _Yes, I am important._

 

_**spookyjim:** Fuck Blurryface. _

 

_I'm important._

 

_**spookyjim:** Even if it sounds hard, it's not impossible. We'll make it together. _

 

I can make it. _No you can't._

 

_**spookjim:** We made it this far, don't give up! _

 

Never giving up. _Finally giving up._

 

_**spookyjim:** Stay alive, it's worth it, I promise! _

 

It's worth it. _It's not._

 

_**spookyjim:** I promise your life has a purpose. I promise. _

 

Purpose. _Your life is pointless, purposeless._

 

 _ **spookyjim:** Stay alive for me. You'll get it through this night and tomorrow the sun will rise and we will try again. And you'll get it through this week. And you'll get it through this life. We will. We'll make it. Do it. Stay alive for me. At least for me. _

 

Staying alive for Josh. _Dying for you._

 

_**spookyjim:** Don't give up! _

 

I don't give up. _You'll give up!_

 

_**spookyjim:** Please, don't give up! Please! _

 

I'll give up.

 

_**blurry_tyler:** I'm sorry, Josh. _

_**spookyjim:** No, don't do this, don't do this to me! We made it this f-..._

 

Josh isn't able to finish the sentence before seeing the next message on his desktop.

 

_blurry_tyler logged out._

 

No. No, no, no, no, no. That can't be real. No. Josh's staring at the message. It's the only thing he can do, because Tyler just cut off the only connection existing between them. No. It's wrong. No. Tyler can't do what Josh's afraid of right now. No. It can't be real. He'd log in again. He'd have thought about everything and recognized it was wrong. He won't do that. No. He would never do that, never ever. Josh knows he'd never do that. He'll be online soon. He'll log in again. Please, log in again.  
And Josh doesn't know for how long he's been staring at this last message as he notices tears of despair running down his cheeks. Within seconds the first sob bursts out his throat, his view is blurred, but he still doesn't snap shut the laptop. No, he goes on staring at this message, the last message he'll receive from _blurry_tyler._ Because he won't log in again.  
Never again.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'd be glad about getting to know your opinions in the comments below. Also thanks for the comments and kudos for Cancer- I'm sorry.  
> Oh, and excuse if there are any mistakes, english obviously isn't my native language and I'm writing this stories to improve my skills, so feel free to correct me. :D


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